The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

The day was calm, with no recent Decepticon attacks, and none suspected to be incoming for some time.  The cons were too busy licking their wounds from the last battle, one that the Autobots had decidedly come out ahead on.  The celebrations had gone on long into the night and the recreation room was already a mess.

Thus, it was the perfect chance for a lone Autobot to slip casually outside.

Mirage had no shift currently scheduled, so he was free to spend his time as he pleased.  He certainly made no move to hide his departure, greeting his comrades in the halls on the way out, but the box in his hands remained unopened despite any passing curiosity.  It was quietly shifted into subspace before long, and  the former noble shifted into alt mode just as smoothly when he reached the doors.  Despite the completely inappropriate earthen race car mode, the mech had little trouble self-adjusting before driving off into the forest covering the mountain, for business unknown...

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[lastonepercent]

Jazz chopped the rebar out from under the bay door the moment Cliffjumper was safely under and out, and not a moment too soon. A handful of shots - and even a few sharp 'pings' of ricocheting metal - sounded off the improvised shield after their own shots were forced to halt.

"Now? We get on out of here, my mech!" Jazz said cheerfully, the implied command not entirely hidden underneath the jovial tone.

Mirage, well aware of his mission's importance, nodded curtly, already checking the surrounding area for signs of the previous battle. He and Jazz transformed at almost the same instance, the commander taking the lead.

::I'll head the path out - we've got cover.::

[cliffjumper]

Giving a quick salute, Cliffjumper transformed just a moment after Mirage and Jazz, throwing a glance behind him at the now-closed baydoors and the Decepticons behind that, and the terrain around them.

What he wanted to do was whoop their afts and help make sure they'd get back properly, but with only one hand there wasn't much he could do. Jazz would probably not lend a blaster, which meant all he could do was to go after the other two.

So, with a reluctant grunt and another glare, Cliffjumper did so and sped after the other two, easily catching up - he might not be Blurr or anything, especially not in rootmode, but he was among the less than a handful who were the fastest that were currently on Earth.

[lastonepercent]

Jazz led them on what was obviously a carefully chosen path across the battlefield. The fight was winding down, but the occasional laser-fire could still be seen or heard around the human buildings. Whatever Jazz had done afforded them cover fire all the way back to the front lines and the safety of the bulk of the other Autobots.

Ratchet and First Aid were immediately on-hand, the former hissing at Mirage's face when he and Jazz transformed on their arrival.

"Get back here-" the medic started, only to be halted by Mirage himself with a wane smile.

"A protected scan would not be amiss, beforehand. To be on the safe side, of course."

The medics stared, and Jazz let out a low whistle at the virus-laden implications.

"Think I'm gonna need that report as soon as Ratchet gives the all-clear."

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper, coming in right after that, missed the exchange and didn't even have the chance to try to ask whoever might listen for a blaster before First Aid swooped down and pulled him closer back against the bulk of the ship.

"Hey! I can---"

"Stand there and let me have a look, please," First Aid said softly, but with surprising firmness as he pulled up Cliffjumper's arm by his lower arm to get a look at the injured hand. With a grimace, Cliffjumper looked away with a muttered grumble.

"Well, this isn't something we can fix in the field. What happened?"

Glancing back up at First Aid from stealing a glance at Mirage, Cliffjumper shrugged.

"Skywarp stomped on it."

[lastonepercent]

Setting Mirage down almost forcefully, Ratchet hooked up a proxy-device between them before beginning his scan safely through a firewall.

"...Soundwave?" Ratchet said grimly, question more statement than query. Mirage simply inclined his head, and Ratchet swore under his breath. The way his face only darkened as the reading's came in only reinforced his dire attitute.

Soundwave's viruses were a genuine pain in his skidplate.

Jazz, meanwhile, hovered close to Mirage's form; kneeling down to remain at hand as the noble was scanned.

::The computer console?:: Jazz questioned, switching over a secure, short-range comm-frequency.

::Indeed. It was armed and waiting for me. They knew.::

[cliffjumper]

::Which means it was either a lucky guess,:: and by Jazz's tone, he believed it was a lucky guess as much as he believed in sparkeaters and leprachauns, ::or we've got a little glitchmouse somewhere.::

Cliffjumper, on the other hand, was meeting First Aid's brightly stunned look with a roll of his optics... and made a rude gesture in Ratchet's direction when the CMO snorted.

"How do you manage, Cliffjumper?" First Aid asked with a slow shake of his helm, fingers gentle as he felt around the demolished hand.

"Had to give him some time to get loose," Cliffjumper said with a huff and a jerk of his helm at Mirage, this time definitely not looking directly at Mirage.

[lastonepercent]

::I know which bet I'd lay my credit chits on,:: Mirage agreed with a sigh.

Swearing under his breath, Ratchet didn't even have to glance from his work with the proxy to return the gesture in Cliffjumper's direction.

"Well, he did a number on you, that's for sure. Nothing I can't fix, but it's going to take some time. I'm sure you noticed not to use your mods?"

Mirage made a face, but nodded. Ratchet jabbed a finger in his direction.

"Good mech. Make sure you keep it that way until I've got it all purged."

Mirage nodded obediently yet again, before matching Jazz's questioning glance.

::The virus shut down half my systems involved with my invisibility mod, which is how I knew he was targeting me specifically. We should probably sweep the vents again first off, of course. Ravage and the others could have found another way in. Again.::

[cliffjumper]

Jazz chuckled dryly, a brief smile twisting his mouth before it smoothed out again.

::Me too. And yeah. They might, but I'm startin' to wonder... And 'sides, if that all was tailored for ya, how much of this was a legit operation or just a cover to get ya.:: Jazz tilted his helm, the glow from his visor flickering a little.

"Are you done starin' at my hand? It ain't gonna magically get uncrushed enough to repair right here, even if I'd sure want it to. Just gimmie a---"

"An order to walk straight back into the ship and wait for takeoff," First Aid said cheerfully, pointing first at Cliffjumper and then back to the ship's ramp.

"... Fine," Cliffjumper said with a mutter and got up, stomping off - he knew better than to argue with medics, even if he really, really wanted to.

[lastonepercent]

"Any further repairs and diagnostics can wait until we get off this battlefield and back to base!" Ratchet said, giving First Aid an approving glance.

Mirage made a face.

::Not an idea I really want to think about...::

Not that he'd get much choice in the matter.

The CMO, catching sight of Jazz and Mirage grimly staring at one another with the faint crackle of close-range comms between them, threw himself between them with a flurry of angry hand gestures.

"Enough of that - get on the ship. You two are the last of the triage patients to arrive - once they're on board, we'll be clear for the return flight, Jazz."

Mirage wasn't a fool, and immediately found himself following after Cliffjumper toward their ride. Jazz - commander of the current mission, apparently - stood up and waved to the surrounding mechs guarding the camp.

"Alright 'Bots, let's move out!"